


Farewell

by Mazen



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom - Susan Kay
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 19:29:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21463342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazen/pseuds/Mazen
Summary: The worst part of losing the one, you love, is being left behind. Erik isn't ready to say goodbye.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Farewell

**Author's Note:**

> From a prompt from Timebird on tumblr.

Erik had always thought that he would be the first to die. It made more sense with his weakening heart, his addiction and, perhaps most of all his in ability, to take care of himself.

He had even made arrangements to secure her after his demise. So it was completely unexcepted when she suddenly passed.

It might not have been sudden at all. He had noticed that she'd slept more than usual and ate less; her eyes might have become more dull if he was being honest. Yet he waved it off as a winter depression, something he had suffered from many times when he still lived above ground. She had after all gone above until recently.

It had seemed like a normal morning. He had served her breakfast, then gone into the music room to compose. Normally, she would join him after the meal, but that day she hadn't come. Instead he had found her on the bed, fast asleep. He had let her be, thinking that she might need the rest, but around dinner time he'd decided to wake her. That's when he felt the coldness in her body, one even colder than himself.

They had been together for so long, yet he couldn't remember how long. One should remember such things, he comtemplated as he carved out images in her casket. His fingers ached, the arthritis acting up as he used muscles for carving that he hadn't used for years. But he would do it for her.

When the Daroga had heard the news, he had been a little too swift in passing the word around to the people who knew Erik. Luckily not many did. But Madame Giry came by with a small bouquet and a sympathetic nod. Even Darius came down to visit him, though Erik knew it was out of fondness and respect for her that the manservant ventured into the catacombs.

One day even Christine came, thankfully having left her Vicomte at home. Erik was sitting by her grave when he felt Christine's presence behind him, but he wasn't ready to look at the soprano. A death shouldn't bring people together and yet, it always did. He wondered if his death would do the same.

Christine sat down beside him and took his hand to comfort him. Christine had never been close to her; they had actually disliked each other a great deal, but she understood Erik's love for her and the companionship he had found in her.

From this point on, he would be alone down in his underground house and he dreaded that more than being in the cold ground like she was now. He longed for the peaceful death that had been given to her.

She had been a constant in his life in a way that not even the Daroga had been. When Christine had left him, when music had abandoned him, even when he had nearly perished in his addiction, she had been there.

Christine left his side, but came back with his violin. That dear girl knew what he needed, even when he didn't. He put the violin under his chin and played her a requiem, hoping that it could drive the pain away.

Farewell, Ayesha.


End file.
